CHAPTER 13

“He stole that information from us!” said Ethan, still thinking about Grandpa Joe. “Remember when you were catching Poliwag on the rocks, Carlo? And he asked if you were catching tadpoles? He was fishing for information about Pokémon! And we didn’t even know it. That’s one sneaky fisherman.”

“He didn’t steal information. We gave it to him,” said Carlo with a smile. “Besides, he gave us information, too. Think about all the Pokémon I caught at the beach the other day.”

“He gave me good info, too,” said Dad, casting his line over the edge of the boat. “Let’s hope it pans out. Actually, let me use a different word. Let’s hope it’s the biggest tip of the year!”

They’d rented another fishing boat—bigger this time. Gianna was navigating with the map from a seat up front.

Devin still stayed behind on shore, but she and Mystic were playing ball this time instead of watching and waving. Ethan smiled with pride when he saw Mystic sit for her ball. Devin rewarded her with the last crumbs of the Magikarp biscuit.

Then he turned to Carlo, who was sitting beside him. “Are there any Pokémon out here?” he asked.

Carlo shook his head. “But I think that’s a good sign. Places that are full of Pokémon don’t seem to be full of fish. And vice versa. I think we’re finally figuring this place out.”

“It’s about time,” said Ethan, peering over the side of the boat. Just as he looked down, something swam under the boat. Something long. Something dark and shadowy.

“Either that was Gyarados,” he whispered, scarcely breathing, “or Dad is about to catch the big one.”

“You caught the b-i-i-i-g-g one! You caught the b-i-i-i-g-g one!”

Ethan and Devin danced around Dad, repeating one of Devin’s made-up songs.

Dad joined in, too, singing his own kind of lyrics as he balanced the plate of grilled fish in his hands. “I caught the b-i-i-i-g-g one. I really d-i-i-i-d-d it.” He shimmied his shoulders and wiggled his hips, doing a circle dance around the dining room table.

“No crispy little fish tonight,” said Mom with a smile. “Grilled Northern and homemade coleslaw. I hope you kids are hungry!”

“Starved,” said Ethan. “But before we eat, I think we should all take a moment to admire Dad and his prized fish. Devin, cue the photo, please.”

She tapped on her phone and scrolled through her photos. “There he is!” she said, tilting the phone so everyone could see.

Sure enough, there was Dad, holding up his Northern Pike beside him—the one that didn’t get away. It was forty-six inches long, according to Dad. It stretched from his sunburned nose down to the bottoms of his baggy cargo shorts.

Dad’s smile looked about forty-six inches wide, too. Sunburn or no sunburn, that’s one happy Dad, thought Ethan.

“So where did you catch this again?” asked Mom, scooping coleslaw onto Dad’s plate.

“I can’t tell,” said Dad. “It’s top secret. But let’s just say that I had a little help from my new friend, Joe.”

“Joe?” said Mom. “Wait, is that a nickname for one of your Weedle?”

“No!” said Devin, busting out laughing. “He’s a real guy.”

“With a real grandson who loves Magikarp—or at least his dog does,” added Ethan.

“And he has a Gyarados,” said Devin. “A super-powerful one.”

“Never mind,” said Mom, holding up her hand. “Pokémon information overload. But speaking of dogs, where’s our Mystic?”

Ethan spun around in his chair, searching. He finally found the orange fluff ball under the rocking chair, curved into a C shape. “There she is,” he whispered. “She looks like a fuzzy-wuzzy caterpillar.”

Her body jerked a little as she chased her own big fish, or maybe a tiny yellow tennis ball.

“Fuzzy Wuzzy,” said Devin. “There’s a new nickname.”

This time, Ethan didn’t argue. Devin could call the dog whatever she wanted. Because now he knew that when he called Mystic, his puppy would come.